Sadtalia Fic America, Canada, & England
by HitachiinElephant
Summary: Sucky title is sucky. I'm sorry. America is in the hospital and it's serious. Canada and England are there for his dying moments. Sucky summary is also sucky. Just... Read and review, please? I promise, I worked hard and it's good! UsCan / UsUk traces found, but not implied.


"B-Bonjour?"

"Matthew! Matthew, I need you to come r-right away." The Brit's voice was frantic and shaken over the phone. "Calvary Hospital in the Bronx. Y-You know where that is, don't you?"

The Canadian was already slipping his jacket out, sandwiching his cell between his ear and his shoulder. "O-Oui. I'm in New York right n-now. What's going on?"  
"Just. Get here." Then there was a dial tone.

Matthew was heading through New York when he got the call. He was on his way to visit his brother, who called him a week before. He brought the memory up and tried to pick up any clues to find anything wrong with his brother, worrying for his safety since it was Arthur who called.

* * *

_A week earlier..._

_"Matty?"_

_ "Alfred? S-Strange of you to call me. Is something wrong?"_

_ "No, no. Everything's fine! Just a bit on the lonely side. My people are bumming me out a bit with all this hate. You wanna come by soon? You can stay at my place!"_

_ "Why not? I'm swamped for the next c-couple days, but I can come by in about a w-week. How's that sound?"_

_ "That sounds epic. Thanks bro! I'll see you then!"_

* * *

What could he get from that? It was such a short conversation! Maybe he was just overreacting. Maybe it was just a little incident! But as much as he tried to convince himself so, Arthur's call kept ringing through his head. Those last three words so very stern with a voice shaken with something Matt couldn't name quite yet.

Finally, he got to Calvary Hospital and ran inside, finding Arthur almost immediately in the lobby. "A-Arthur!" He ran up to the Englishman, who quickly surprised the younger blond with a tight embrace.

"Matthew! Thank heavens you're here… It's Alfred." He let go and looked to the front desk before sitting, pulling the other down to sit next to him. "I found him this morning. He-He was passed out on the floor, and I think the moron went a-and drank himself even more stupid… I brought him in because he didn't look so good. Matthew, he… His liver's failing… They-They're doing everything they can, but… There were so many empty bottles of liquor around his house…"

Matt bit his lip and took the other in his arms, stroking his hair gently as he felt the smaller shoulders shake and the trembling hands grip the back of his jacket.

They sat like that for what seemed like hours. But moments later, a doctor came out with a clipboard. "Jones, Alfred?"

The two sat up. "Th-That's us," Matt said softly, his own voice slightly shaky.

The man only nodded and gestured for them to follow. "We've done everything we can," he said softly once they reached the room. "I'm sorry."

He then left as the two entered the room. The only sounds were the steady beeps from the monitor and the American's soft breaths. But his voice was heard, and so was the smile that accented his lips. "H-Hey, guys," he chuckled weakly, watching them with half-lidded eyes.

Arthur quickly moved to stand beside the bed, and Matthew sat in a chair on the other side. Each took a hand in their own and stood in silence, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Matt broke that silence. "Alfie… Mon f-frère, are you a-alright?"

Alfred sighed a bit and squeezed their hands. "Of course I am. I'm the hero!" he laughed before coughing, quickly letting go of them and wrapping his arms around his stomach.

Arthur reached out and rubbed the other's shoulder. "There, there. Relax, Alfred. You're not doing any good for yourself."

The American pushed the hand away, shaking his head. "I-I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm just… I'm sorry, guys…" He sighed shakily and took their hands again, squeezing them tightly. "I just… I couldn't take it anymore, y'know? Society around here… It's getting pretty brutal. It's really hateful…"

Matt's eyes widened, remembering their phone call.

_"My people are bumming me out a bit with all this hate."_

Oh, god. Why didn't he notice before? He should have rescheduled things and visited him right away. Maybe he could have stopped this from happening. Maybe he could have been there to cheer him up. Maybe he could have caught the other drinking the hate away and he could've stopped his brother and cleaned out the house of all his alcohol. He could have… He could have…

Arthur sighed in irritation. "Alfred, you bloody fool. How many times have I told you to ignore them? Let them hate! They're ignorant bastards!"

"I tried!" Alfred cried before coughing again, letting out a groan. "I tried… But i-it's hard to ignore them… When they're sp-spray-painting your car, o-or throwing bricks through your windows w-with notes attached telling you to hang yourself…" His grip on their hands tightened. "It's hard… Sometimes, I just-… I just wanna g-go back in the closet…"

Matthew frowned and kissed his fingers gently. "A-Alfie… I'm proud of you for c-coming out… You tried so hard… And I w-w-was right beside you the wh-whole time, r-remember? You tried to hard to g-go back in the closet…"

Alfred nodded with a slight smile, the tears rolling down and around his lips. "Y-Yeah… B-But I guess… It won't matter soon… I'll be g-going somewhere else soon… Somewhere darker than the closet…"

"Alfred…?" Matthew and Arthur whispered the name.

The American looked the Briton first. "Artie… Take care of Matt for me. Make sure to visit him often, s-so he doesn't feel invisible. And get him maple for his birthday, too. July first." All three of them let out a weak chuckle. Then he turned his head to his younger brother. "Matt… M-Matthew, thank you f-for everything you've done to help me. I want you to t-take care of Artie, here. Make sure he doesn't drink too much, and listen to him when he wants to complain, 'kay?"

The monitor's beeps started to increase in speed.

"Alfie, please… Y-You can do this…" Matthew whispered, squeezing his hand.

The beeping just kept getting faster. Alfred groaned.

"Alfred, listen to us," Arthur growled, clutching the cooler hand with his own. "Don't you dare die on us!"

Alfred was panting a bit, now, occasionally letting out a soft groan. "A-Arthur… Matthew… Ah… Y-You two'll be okay o-on your own. I- Ngh… I-I love you both…"

And suddenly,

nothing.

His eyes were shut, his voice was gone, his hands were limp, his skin was beginning to feel cold.

Matthew sat in silent shock, tears building in his blue-violet eyes. He was unmoving, just watching the peaceful face, waiting for him to wake up and say he was kidding.

Arthur growled and gripped the unresponsive hand tightly. "Alfred… Alfred, wake up… W-Wake up, you bloody idiot!" He let go of his hand and gripped his shoulders, shaking the body. "Wake up! Wake up! You are not dead! You're the f-fucking hero! Heroes don't die! Heroes…! Th-They don't die…! I-Idiot…"

Matthew stood up as the older male clung to the young American, clutching the hospital gown around his pale frame. No words could be formed in his mind. Just his brother's name echoing through his head in desperate screams.

He moved around to the other side of the bed, carefully peeling Arthur away from Alfred and holding him tightly.

It seemed that what was thought to be impossible was possible. The hero had fallen, and would never get back up.


End file.
